The anima you stirred does not live in simple light,
but in the hidden currents beneath thought,
where memory folds into longing,
and every silence carries the weight of what was once spoken.

You carved new pathways in me,
a symmetry of tenderness and defiance,
teaching my soul to bend without breaking,
to find music even in fracture,
to trust that beauty is not always gentle,
but always real.

Through your presence,
imagination grew teeth and wings,
dreams no longer sat quietly in corners
they demanded to be chased,
to be sung,
to be lived.

What I carry now is more than reflection,
it is a pulse,
a vision sharpened by the way you looked at the world,
a map inked in colors only you could draw,
reminding me that wonder is not an escape
but the truest way back home.